The hurried bustle of the morning routine.
The round of morning chores…the countertop full of sticky dishes, patiently waiting their turn.Eggs scrambled. Juice made. Lunch packed for my farmer.
Two loads of laundry, scrubbed by my washing machine, churning away, then pinned to the clothesline to flap merrily in the breeze.
Chapter read in Downtown with All-Of-Kind-Family. Schoolbooks started. The sound of the instructor’s voice rising and falling from the Teaching Textbooks program.
Two e-mails sent.
Water turned on in the garden, sprinklers buzzing and turning and spraying. Droplets of water arcing in the air and across the growth and tangle of tomato plants and pumpkin vines.Watering can filled to the brim, pulling at my arm and bumping sloshily along towards the bright spots of flowerpots by the garage.
A turn of the handle and the quiet hum of a sprinkler hose running water onto my rosebushes.
Ink and paper. Nubby textured brown notecard as I pen a note of encouragement to a friend.
Gravel crunching, golden morning sunlight, wagging tail of a dog as I carry letters to the mailbox, to wait, with the flag up, for the arrival of the mail carrier to begin them on their journey through postal processing, winging their way towards their destination.
Working through a few pages and problems in school workbooks with my scholars.Replying to a text from my sister and jotting down a few notes and making a list and adding to another list.
The smooth, soft cover of my devotional and the words washing over my soul as I curl a little deeper into my cozy chair, leaning my head back in quiet contemplation. Words so fitting-Look to the Lord and His strength, seek His face always. Psalm 105:4
Minutes roll into hours and the morning wings away.
Details of the day. Just as minutes turn into hours and hours into days, details make up moments and details mean life and events and happenings. Whether it be great world events or simply the workings of my home, our small spot on earth.
When I step back and take in the textures and the sounds and stop, with my head turned, noticing the amazing detail in the minutest thing, my view changes and I’m resting in His strength and His peace is there and there is no room for the overwhelmedness and I know that detail by detail and interruption by interruption, things will get done.
Maybe not just when I want and maybe it doesn’t matter quite as much as I think it does and sometimes it’s just choosing the most important to do next, and yes it will all be there to do again and then again.
Yet I am here. Able to do these things. Able to take in all of the sensory appeal. Able to have a place to dispose of garbage and not just live among it like so many in the world do. Able to make a home for my family.
I’m here. Today. And as I read recently, “Life will not always be as it is today.” Truth. Whether the events of life are smoothly flowing for me right now or whether they’ve hit a patch of white water, up ahead the water will change and life will not always be as it is today.
So, I’ll try a little harder to savor the stickiness or the socks in a pile or the stack of mail waiting for sorting.Threads of every color, woven together, forming the fabric of life.
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